Hello

Well it has been a stessful month and more time from miza due to that. However starting up college and going to a new one so more paper work and bs from people but almost done. I have posts made on the usb drive just need tto post them up this weekend.

For the people who did not know, zack the black kitten in my last post, had passed away just a few days after that photo was taken. I rather not go into the details but it was very quick and hard on us. Oero is still in good health and will go to the home after the 1st of the year.

Yeah life is dull but need to go to the college and start on more paper work to pay for said college. Oh well that is life but once I get done (well even just a year) I will have a job for a phone company in the tech area part time so it is going to get better.

oh yeah marry x mas

My 12th grade Creative Writing teacher used the title of this blog as her mantra. I believe now that she was merely trying to convince me to stop writing war stories. After all, what does a 17year old pimple-faced geek know about war? Only what he reads in history books, magazines and comics. Today, I realize that you don't need to experience something to write about it; you can always research the topic, but her words motivated me.

At age 17, I wrote a list of goals that I wanted to accomplish in my life. My list included acquiring a Bachelor's degree, receiving a commission in the military, buying my own home before I was 30 years old, getting married sometime after age 30 and finding a lucrative career in a field I enjoy. I have achieved four of those goals. I was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in the United States Army (Reserve) at age 23; I received a Bachelor's Degree in Political Science at age 25, I bought a house when I was 29 and I was married at age 39.

Ms. Adler's words in 1982 sent me packing into the United States Army at age 18. My military career spanned three years on active duty and 18 in the Massachusetts Army National Guard. You can read about one of my experiences as a Platoon Leader in Canada on Gunther Zimmerman's blog. I've been in numerous fire fights with blank ammunition and provided gallons of blood, sweat and tears while in uniform.

Besides serving as Platoon Leader, I was a Company Executive Officer, Company Commander, Battalion Personnel Officer, Battalion Supply and Logistics Officer, Battalion Signal Officer, Brigade assistant Supply Officer, Brigade Operations Officer and Division Battle Captain (G3 - Current Operations). It was a lot of fun. It was hard work. I gained invaluable experience and I would never trade it for anything in the world. My experiences in the military are some of the best in my life.

In the civilian world, I spent roughly 12 years as a Reserve Police Officer; I worked three years in financial Services, I spent...

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For all the ugly makeshift lives, the blatant lack of comfort and the repugnant odors of reality which poverty entails, nothing is more lethal among its effects than the deterioration of the stricken man's desire to uplift himself in the most important way: morally. A world of rampant corruption, crime and an ever-growing void in spirit. This is the society which we live in. The world of yesterday, today and most likely, tomorrow. It is a hierarchy of earthliness supported by the atrophy of the human being's desire for what is right and what is morally good. Everything around us is motivated by financial and material needs; for the sake of securing a little bit of comfort the most disturbing of natural phenomena--human sin--is born. Following in the footsteps of each and every event in society can be a cruel, despicable task, yet experiencing it in full is a far more horrible dose of reality. There is the father who struggles desperately to support the family he has sired. He wanders into the city to carve out a living not of the harsh sun of the fields, in the hope that the new life he wanders into would be a kind redemption to a fate originally tied to the soil. This promise is quickly drowned out by the backlash of hunting for the mirage of success in a true city of life and death. He goes into hibernation in squalid apartments, where the stink of garbage rotting in fetid, polluted creeks invades the senses in each and every passing moment. Unable to find any sort of decent job due to a lack of ability to even spell out his name or read it, he resorts to crime as a last ditch effort, for survival, only to be caught in the firing line of human justice and be handed over to the oblivion that is the city jail. Then there is the mother who, with her ragged clothes and destitute...

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Seriously. The title sums it up. Crazy huh? Sure, it won't last, but for right now I'm savoring it. See... I've been confined at my house for roughly the last two and a half weeks almost going on three while I recovered from carpal tunnel surgery on my right hand. It was great having a break from work, but when your on a 'break' you want to be able to do stuff. When your hand is wrapped in gauze and causing you serious pain, you really can't do ANYTHING. I could wiggle my fingers, but that was about it.

Now though... I happy. I just went back to work today. I missed work. I really love my job. It can be crazy busy or dead boring slow, but its always an interesting and challenging part of my day. I like to think I'm a great hostler. Maybe I'm not the best one that ever lived, but I love to smile all day long and do the best job I personally can do. That means, to me, cleaning and straightening up the yard (it can get trashed fast with 300+ trailers). That means giving the best customer service to the DC I work for that is possible. It means having a 'can do' attitude thats heavily infused with friendliness and helpfulness. Sometimes I have a bad day, but even when I'm having a bad day, I still have to put a smile on my face and get my job done.

I guess when you take time off work, you always wonder if you'll be missed. Will people even notice? It goes along with the whole thinking process about disappearing or dying today who would care or notice? Turns out... everyone cares and noticed. I got so many smiles, thumbs up, "LET ME SEE THE SCAR", people poking at my wrist, gossping with me, complaining about all the frigid weather I conveniently missed... it was bliss.

Granted my palm hurts where they cut through it after an 8 hr shift, but thats to be expected. I haven't done much with it for three weeks. I only had the stitches out Wednesday, but baring that, emotionally I'm in bliss. The substitute did a good job, but my relief...

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